


Handle With Care

by justheretobreakthings



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Caretaker Hunk, Fluff, Gen, Hurt Keith (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-05
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-10-22 19:33:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17668742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justheretobreakthings/pseuds/justheretobreakthings
Summary: Keith receives a minor head injury while training with Hunk, and Hunk refuses to believe Keith when he insists that he's "fine".





	Handle With Care

**Author's Note:**

> Based on [this](http://promptsforyourwhumpfic.tumblr.com/post/163795396307) prompt by promptsforyourwhumpfic on tumblr.

“We never should have trained while the others were gone, that’s the thing. Now you need a pod and I don’t know how to work the pods and you’re bleeding, oh God, you’re bleeding, oh  _God_ , Shiro’s gonna be so mad that I broke you - ”

“Hunk,” Keith groaned, letting his eyes shut. Honestly, watching Hunk pace frantically back and forth was giving him more of a headache than his actual head wound. And it wasn’t  _that_  bad of a head wound, really, just messy. “You need to calm down. I’m fine.”

“You’re  _not fine_ ,” Hunk insisted. “Keith, you’re bleeding like - like some kind of blood fountain.”

“I know, but it’s not as bad as it looks, honest,” Keith said. Speaking of how it looked, he went ahead and lowered the towel, the one he had brought along to the training room to wipe down sweat but was coming more in handy absorbing blood, away from the wound, wincing at the amount of scarlet that had dyed the fabric. Hunk’s breath hitched before he let out a slight whimper.

“Hunk,” Keith said again. “Are you going to faint?”

“No,” Hunk squeaked.

“Are you going to throw up?”

“Unh-uh,” Hunk said. “I just… need a moment…”

“All right.” Keith frowned at the towel before bringing it back to his head, hissing when it made contact with the wound, then slowly got to his feet. “I’m gonna go ahead and wash up, so, you do what you need to do to feel better, and I’ll - ”

“What? Wait, no, I’ll help you!”

Keith sighed as he rested one hand against the wall to help keep his balance. “Hunk, I appreciate it, but I know you’re not good with blood. I can clean it myself.”

“Keith,” Hunk said, fixing the other paladin with as firm a stare as he could muster considering the nervous pallor of his face. “It was my bayard that hurt you in the first place. The least I can do now is help patch you up.”

“It’s not like you shot me, you just knocked me with the barrel.”

“And now you’re  _bleeding_  because of it.”

Keith grunted and started making his way toward the door. “Hunk, seriously, you don’t have to - ”

Even as he said it, though, a quick bout of dizziness hit him, coming in little waves from the gash in his forehead. Keith nearly tipped forward before a hand grabbed him by the crook of the elbow to keep him upright.

“Are you  _sure_  you don’t want help?” Hunk asked, tilting his head.

Keith let out a long-suffering sigh before muttering, “Maybe a little.”

“Okay,” Hunk said. “Okay, I’m gonna take you over to the lounge, get you all nice and settled, get you cleaned up, and we’re gonna live through this, right?”

“I had no doubts about that last bit,” Keith said. “Come on.”

He started walking again, only for Hunk to tug him back. “Wait, Keith, you shouldn’t be walking,” the latter said.

“I can walk fine, Hunk, just… just keep an eye out in case I lose my balance.”

“No, no, Keith, you’ve lost a lot of blood, and you’re gonna pass out if you exert yourself too much.”

Keith closed his eyes and took a deep breath in to keep his temper in check. Hunk was only trying to help, he reminded himself. It wasn’t as if Shiro was so great about letting Keith do his own first-aid either, so this wasn’t his first time dealing with this sort of hovering. “If I don’t walk, how do you expect me to get to the lounge?” he asked through gritted teeth.

Hunk thought for a moment, and Keith realized what he was going to do a second before he did it. He barely had time to say, “No - ” before Hunk scooped him up in his arms to carry him.

“This’ll be faster anyway,” Hunk said.

“Hunk - ”

“Keith, just - please. Let me help.”

Keith sagged in Hunk’s arms, relenting. Struggling would only worsen his headache, and, if he was being completely honest, Hunk’s hold on him  _was_ cozy. Not so much that Keith would willing start letting Hunk cradle him in his arms any time soon, but enough so that he was willing to endure the stupid bridal carry to the lounge, where Hunk laid him down onto the couch as gently as if Keith were made of glass.

“Okay, now, you lie down here,” Hunk said. “I’ll go to the kitchen and get some stuff to clean up the - the blood.”

“Hunk, you really don’t have to - ” Keith started as he levered himself up onto his elbows.

“Hey, I just told you to lie down!” Hunk said.

Keith grumbled under his breath as he laid his head back down, and he listened to Hunk’s footsteps as they hurried out of the lounge, before Keith sighed and resigned himself to simply waiting on the other to return The wound in his forehead was still leaking blood. Slowly, but enough that a dark red was, after a few minutes, able to ooze into his line of vision as he stared up at the ceiling. He reached up to wipe it away with the back of his wrist, then let out a hiss as he irritated the gash.

“Don’t touch it, you’ll make it worse!” Hunk cried, startling Keith; the latter hadn’t even noticed Hunk coming back in.

Keith rolled his head to turn to Hunk, raising his brow at the pile in Hunk’s arms. The yellow paladin had brought back more than just the water, soap, and towel Keith had expected. “What’s all this?” he asked.

“Well, first, a decent pillow, because the ones that come with this couch are hard as rocks,” Hunk said, passing him the pillow, which Keith obligingly tucked under his head. “And I poured you some juice and grabbed some cookies, because you’ve lost a bunch of blood, and you’re supposed to drink juice and eat cookies after you give blood at a blood drive, so I figured, they’d probably be good here too.”

“Thanks, but - ”

“I know, I know, I didn’t have to. Drink your juice,” Hunk said, shoving the glass toward him and narrowly avoiding splashing it all over the pillow. Keith accepted the glass and took a couple of sips as Hunk set down a bowl of water on the floor beside the couch and dabbed the towel into it. “Okay, now - now to wash off the blood.”

Keith frowned over at him, taking note of Hunk’s wrinkled brow and pinched lips. “You don’t have to do that bit, Hunk.”

“No, I want to,” Hunk said. “I’ll just… breathe through my mouth. Close your eyes, I don’t want to get soap in them.”

Keith hesitated, but at the determined look Hunk sent him, he obliged and shut them, keeping them shut as the warm, damp towel started dabbing at his face, washing away the sticky blood. Occasionally he could hear a splash as Hunk dipped the towel back into the bowl, and each time was accompanied by the tiniest hint of a whine, no doubt in reaction to the blood spreading into the water. At one point Keith opened his mouth to give some encouragement in response to one such whine, but Hunk spoke before he could, saying, “I’m nearly done, just a little more…”

Finally another, dry towel replaced the first one, drying him off before Hunk said, “All right, you can open your eyes again.”

Keith did so, immediately turning to Hunk to see how he was faring. He was a hint paler than usual, but didn’t seem on the verge of passing out or throwing up. “You holding up okay?” Keith asked.

“Yeah,” Hunk answered. “You?”

“I told you already, Hunk, I’m fine.”

Hunk gave him a little smile. “Says you. Look, Keith, you’re hurt, and sure,  _maybe_  you’re fine, but I’m not taking a chance, okay? I couldn’t live with myself if you weren’t and I didn’t take care of you.”

“Not like it was your fault. It was an accident.”

“Yeah, but - ” Hunk sighed. “You’re my friend, Keith, and friends don’t let friends get hurt without doing something about it.”

“That’s not - ”

“Not really in line with your whole independent streak, I know. Too bad. You’ve got Doctor Hunk taking care of you now, and Doctor Hunk is telling you to lie still and eat a cookie.” He picked up one of the cookies he’d brought and handed it to Keith. “Doctor’s orders.”

Keith sighed again, but he smiled in return. “Fine. If the doctor says so…”

He took a bite, and Hunk nodded in satisfaction before getting up. “I’m gonna go clean up the training deck. If you even think about moving from that couch, no more cookies, ever.”

“Okay, okay, I’m staying.”

“Good. Get some rest, Keith.”

“I will, Doctor.”


End file.
